


Thought and Memory

by ladyhistory



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Loki Does What He Wants, Manipulative Loki, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Post-Avengers Asgard, Redemption arc?, References to Norse Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 15:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyhistory/pseuds/ladyhistory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having returned to Asgard, Loki faces execution at the hands of the council in Gladsheim. An unexpected chance gives him the opportunity to flee, but his discovery of the treachery running deep within Asgard forces him to consider the cost of leaving it all behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Return

**Author's Note:**

> Story imported from my FFN account under SherlockianGirl, published over a year ago. Recently got back into updating this on a new platform, so here we are!

In a matter of seconds, the Avengers became a mere shadow amidst the span of lightyears, a last image ripped from their sight before they slammed into the broken Bifrost of Asgard. Loki released the Tesseract with a grunt and tumbled to a halt in a jangle of handcuffs. A few yards away, Thor slowly rose to his feet and with a wearied stride crossed the bridge to where his brother lay motionless in the gloom.

“I want to know why, brother,” he growled, lifting Loki by the lapels of his long coat.

There was a wicked glint in Loki’s eyes, though it flickered in and out like a sputtering candle.

Thor reached up, released the lock on the metal muzzle and pulled it from his brother’s face. “Tell me!”

“Gone and _yet_  forgotten,” Loki murmured with a quirk of his lips. “Do you know what it is to be forgotten, Thor?”

“You were not-“

“Oh, but I was!” Loki snarled suddenly. “I could scream my name from the pinnacle of Valaskjalf and still Father would hear you better.”

“You call him ‘Father’.”

Loki pulled away as if struck across the face, but said nothing.

Thor's jaw clenched. “Why did you try to take Earth, of all the realms?”

“Humans will listen to raw power. They care nothing for pretty speeches in banquet halls or drunken boasting before conquest. They see that they are weak, and become prey to it.”

“They became prey to you," Thor muttered. "Father will have you executed for this.”

A fleeting pang clouded Loki’s brow before his face hardened into a mask of twisted amusement. “Then you must kill me first.”

"Do not make jest of it!" His brother cried hoarsely as he tightened his grip on Mjolnir. “You know I will not--"

“I will not be a prisoner in Asgard once more,” Loki hissed between clenched teeth. “So kill me and spare Odin the burdensome effort. See how easy it will be, to be the hero that strikes down the luckless villain!"

"You will be silent!" Thor roared back as he held the muzzle just inches from his brother's face.

Loki smiled and cocked his head to the side, looking the contraption up and down. "You truly think a bit of metal can tie my tongue? I allowed you and your friends your little moment of triumph—oh yes, I suffered it! There are wheels in my mind that can still turn while you put me in chains. But I am no longer concerned with Earth at present, so by all means drag me back to the throne that was once mine."

Thor locked the muzzle back onto Loki's jaw with a jerk of his wrist before wrenching his brother to his feet and prodding him down the darkened Bifrost with Mjolnir to his back.

* * *

  
The golden city had fallen into brazen dullness under the cover of night, as even the glow of the swirling galaxies faded upon the sombre walls of Asgard's greatest dwellings. A slight breeze, slowly growing stronger, swept through the deserted streets and byways, bringing with it a chilling air. The torches lit along the expansive corridors were whipped up in gusts of flame, and then died dim as the winds passed on. Passing under the great golden arches of Valaskjalf, Odin's hall, the two travelers encountered the towering figure of Heimdall, removed from his post on the now ruined Bifrost to conduct a closer watch on the city.

  
Only a nod of acknowledgement came from Heimdall, though Thor caught the malicious look Loki threw at the guardian as they passed. It was well that Loki was muzzled, he thought, should his poisonous words spark a riot of contempt wherever he went. He knew Loki's return to Asgard would unsettle its inhabitants; he was well liked in few circles, and his enemies often far outnumbered his allies.

Odin's ravens, sensing the approach of the two men, wheeled into the throne room in a flurry of black feathers. Espying Thor, each croaked in turn, one alighting to perch solemnly upon his shoulder. The other took back to the air and dove down the corridor toward Odin's chambers, a messenger to their arrival.

Mere moments passed before Odin came striding into the hall, his wife Frigga following swiftly behind him. When her gaze fell upon Loki, she let out a cry and rushed to embrace him. Loki's eyes widened, but as she refused to release him, he allowed himself to lean in for the briefest of moments. He longed to be free of his shackles and return that smallest of affections, to say something to quell her fears. But he was reminded of the reason for his bondage, and as his gaze met the stern stare of Odin, Loki stepped back.

"News has reached me from Midgard," Odin thundered. "What have you done?"

The narrowing of Loki's eyes and the rising of his cheekbones indicated the savage grin beneath his muzzle.

Odin suddenly reached up and tore the mask from his son's face, and Loki screamed in pain as the blood began to flow freely from his lips. Odin crushed the metal in his fist before throwing it to the ground with a clang. Thor and Frigga rushed forward, but Odin swiftly held out a hand and forced them back.

"What have you done?" Odin bellowed again.

Loki had fallen to his knees, trying to ebb the flow of blood with his sleeves. "Exactly what you already have," he sputtered, raising his head and fixing Odin with a venomous glare. "I subjected others to my will."

His bitter meaning did not escape the Allfather's notice, and he nodded, as if deep in thought. "You blame me still."

"Always." Loki's tone was deadly now. "I had wondered what it would be like to conquer and rule over the fates of many, regardless of their own petty desires. To be like you. Do you remember the tales you told me as a child? How I worshipped them and you, and I only ever thought to please you! Never could I have dreamed that I was your biggest lie!"

"You mustn't—" Frigga began tearfully, but was again silenced by Odin.

"How many has he slain?" Odin asked Thor flatly.

"I cannot say. His own count may be few, but his alliance with the Chitauri has caused great destruction in Midgard."

The Allfather turned back to Loki. "You have made war on an innocent people, and have cost the lives of many."

Loki flashed a bloodied grin. "And Asgard has never made wars of its own? Where was your judgment then?"

Odin struck Loki full across the jaw, booming, "You will show respect to the one who may end your trifling existence by his command!"

Loki recovered from the blow with a growl but remained silent, glowering.

"We will hold a council at Gladsheim," Odin declared some moments later, his hard gaze never faltering. "The others will not be as merciful as I."

* * *

His ears pricked up at the sound of footsteps as the growing echo dragged him slowly back into a drugged consciousness. He vaguely remembered a burning liquid being forced down his throat, his snarls of protest, the hard collapse into a dreamless sleep. Eyes still closed, he listened to the approaching visitor, marking out the strides in seconds and calculating how long…

The fog rolled over his mind once more, and his attention faded.

"Loki." The strong voice resonated through the small room, commanding but gentle.

Once more Loki struggled for coherent thought, and now opened his eyes wide to take in the dim room about him. A prison cell. He had expected as much. His lips cracked into a smile, but the throbbing pain caused his expression to fall into a grimace as he recalled the violence of earlier. Dazed, he pushed himself up from the ground on which he lay, but fell forward on his knees as dizziness overcame him. Kneeling would have to do, he thought with marked distaste.

"They have decided, Loki," came the voice once more. It was Thor's, of course. Who else would have bothered to trek to the lowest of the holding cells to speak with him?

Loki managed to lift his head. "Decided…what?"

"Your punishment."

"My, how quick they were."

"Two days have passed, and they have taken no rest."

"Freyja, Frey, Tyr, and the rest?"

"Yes. And Father and Mother."

Loki's gaze slid to the floor. "And the sentence?"

Thor's eyes gleamed in the hazed light, and the prisoner wondered that tears should spring to the eyes of that fearless god of thunder, who only allowed his anger to get the better of him.

"You will live."

Loki's smirk faded and his eyes narrowed as he searched his brother's face. "And?"

Thor's voice trembled slightly. "You will die as you live, and your torment will be with no near end."

"I don't understand."

"There is a mountain in Jotunheim, Loki," said Thor, his voice still strained, "Where Father found you, and there you will be bound, looking upon Asgard but never meant to reach its borders again. There are two snakes…" Here Thor paused, and swallowed hard. "They will coil themselves about your neck, and lap into your ears a deadly poison. It will dissolve your mind and burn until nothing remains, and so lay waste that cunning which…which you so misused." He was quoting the council, but the words still choked him.

Loki blinked, stunned. "Then I die and it is over with."

"Your body will heal and the serpents shall return."

He would never admit as much aloud, but Loki's stomach roiled at the thought of such a punishment. To suffer pain was inevitable, he knew this, but to do so without the use of his wits was deeply unsettling. He was accustomed to relying on a quick mind to get him out of various troubles, and to be reduced to a dull and incoherent creature was the fulfillment of his deepest fear.

"You said the torture will be near endless," Loki growled, his gaze boring into Thor. "How long?"

"Until Father may forgive you."

"Ha!" The bark of laughter escaped Loki's lips before he could check it. "And why should Odin not place me in Asgard, where he may gloat over my continued pain?"

"He does not wish to hear your screams."

"I will do my best from Jotunheim," said Loki with a deadly smile, his eyes narrowing.

"You must forgive him."

Again Loki let out a scornful laugh. "Do not presume to tell me that I should, when you know very well that I cannot."

The crash of a hammer against metal bars filled the room with a horrid, echoing clang, and Loki leapt back in surprise.

"Do you think you alone have suffered from Father's plans?" Thor bellowed as he struck the prison bars with his fist. "To have his life used in pursuit of another purpose, a higher purpose, despite how he might wish to live? Do not presume yourself so special, brother, for I have been appointed to worse use than diplomacy!"

For a moment, Loki was taken aback. He opened his mouth to question, and then bit his tongue. He studied the face of the man he had called his brother, whose life he had envied, and whose fate he had thought to be the most untroubled in the realm. Never had he thought such an injured passion could lie dormant within the same man.

Then the dull pang of bitterness returned, and he whirled on Thor.

"What makes me so different?" he snapped.

Thor strode slowly back to the door, then paused upon the threshold. "You do not know how to forgive, brother. You never have."


	2. The Penance

The stinging winds whipped about them, but few amongst the trudging company heeded the bitter cold. Their mission had one focus, and if the weather made it all the harsher, so be it. The paths that had crisscrossed the foot of the mountains slowly disappeared as they climbed higher, buried beneath growing sheets of ice.

Stumbling forward, the guards wrenched hard on the fetters that bound Loki's wrists and he pitched forward, losing his balance and falling to one knee. He hissed from behind the new muzzle that had been clamped to his jaw before their departure from Asgard. He saw little use for it now, as even his honeyed words would have little effect on the servants of the Allfather. Their orders had been explicit, and to stray from their duty was to risk Odin's wrath.

Loki stumbled to his feet and he felt the wet snow soak through to his skin, though the ice did not irk him as it might the others. The freezing Jotun landscape was his accursed home, but he could not help the sense of warped pleasure at being exiled here; at least the biting cold could not add to his torture.

It had taken the better part of the day to reach the rocky outcropping in the mountains where Odin had first rescued an infant frost giant so many years ago, and though Loki did not remember the place by sight, he felt keenly its oppressive loneliness. It was here that Odin returned him, the ruined son who had failed to live up to his guided purpose.

_"Loki Laufeyson…"_

Something in him cringed at the sound of his surname. The Allfather had publicly recognized his true parentage and so stripped him of his Asgardian heritage as a member of the house of Odin. The new address still stung, but he pushed the thought away. He had never been one of them.

_"…you have sought war where there was no quarrel, and have destroyed many innocents…"_

The guards were pulling him forward now, directing him to a large slab of stone amidst a pile of sharp boulders.

_"…you have shamed Asgard and the house of Odin by your merciless actions…"_

He was pushed back against the stone until he could feel the rough patches of ice dig into his spine. Loosing his shackles, the men bound his arms to either side of the rock with a rope made of unbending iron, a substance wrought deep within the caves of Nidavellir. The metal cord was wrapped tightly about his body until he was tied, unmoving, to the slab. His breathing became restricted and he fought the bonds, only to have the iron cut deeper into his chest. He gave up with a gasp and tried to focus on the rhythm of his own shallow breathing.

_"…and so it is right that your punishment will be just as merciless…"_

The sound of hissing broke his reverie, and Loki felt his stomach plummet. He had feigned indifference back in Odin's court as he listened to his sentence with a contemptuous smile. A ruse, he knew. But his pride would not allow him to buckle to fear, and for days he desperately hid his growing anxiety behind a mask of derisive amusement. But it no longer mattered now, and as he glimpsed the snakes slither into his peripheral, his heart leapt and pounded in his throat.

The guards in the company said nothing, but completed their work almost mechanically, removing his muzzle before turning away to begin the long trudge back down the mountain.

"Stop!" Loki cried out to them, and the snakes recoiled slightly. "Does the Allfather leave a final word?"

One guardsmen half-turned and spat upon the ground. "He would not speak your name, Sly One, but says thus: 'His salvation lies in his thought and another's memory.' Our business here is finished." And with that, the company moved slowly away, the crunching of their footsteps in the snow fading into the whistling winds.

Suddenly the gales dropped to a whispering breeze, and a ghastly silence fell upon the small cliff. Loki listened with growing horror as the serpents continued to slither down the rock and brush against his throat. Once, twice around his neck they slowly wound themselves, until a snake head rose on either side of his jaw and poised themselves mere inches from his ears. Loki instinctively pulled back, which only worked to tighten the serpents' grip and choke him. Panting, he tried his bonds once more but found them unrelenting. His thoughts flew back to the memories of Odin's tales, stories of grotesque tortures in the name of Asgardian justice that used to hold Thor and him enthralled as boys. He had little thought he would experience them himself.

Two forked tongues flicked into Loki's ears, lapping into them a hot, dripping liquid. It instantly stung his skin, and quickly grew in intensity as two small streams began to flow into the recesses of his mind. Seconds passed and Loki could feel it burning through the tender flesh behind his eyes, and a choking shriek erupted from his throat. The white-hot pain stabbed into his brain like burning knives, and amidst his screams of agony he was barely conscious of the poison carving a hollow out of the center of his skull. His reasoning evaporated in the wake of the venom, and his body writhed against its bonds without a thought as to how many minutes, hours, or days had passed.

  
He could not see the blinding flash of light that suddenly ripped down from the clouds, nor could he hear the thunderous clang of hammer against iron. The constricting serpents were torn from his throat and the bonds about his body slowly ripped away in fistfuls of twisted metal. Instantly sensation came back to his limbs. Loki felt himself slide down the slab of stone, felt the ice beneath his fingertips, and the wind against his cheek. Awareness returned, then thought, and finally reason as his mind rapidly restored itself layer upon layer. His eyes shot open and as his surroundings came into focus he found himself staring up at Thor, who stood before him with a crushed serpent in each of his fists.

* * *

Loki staggered back against the rocks and pushed up against them. "You! W-why?" he gasped.

"I saw my brother's cry for help," said the Thunderer simply.

"Saw?"

"Do not think me a fool who cannot recognize another man's fear. It was writ plainly on your face when Father announced your punishment."

"Oh, but I smiled!"

"Your eyes did not."

Loki blinked, startled, but quickly recovered. "Odin will smite you for this, and you will be as I was—"

"His punishment will be less severe, and I do not fear it."

Loki clenched his teeth. "Of course, the true son will be pardoned," he spat.

A light ignited in Thor's eyes as his grip on Mjolnir tightened, but he stayed his hand. "Father would not accept me as your substitute."

Loki felt his jaw drop again. "What?"

"I fought the council's every word, but to no avail. When I offered to take your place, they threw me from Gladsheim until their decision was made. I had no say in their decision."

Bewilderment surged within Loki; the shock of his rescue, the relief from the pain, and the hatred of it all warred relentlessly in his mind. He was tempted to slip back into spite, that easiest of comforts, but could not ignore Thor's blatant disobedience on his behalf.

His throat rumbled in a low growl; the sentimentality of it all sickened him. He could feel his hatred reignite as he recounted the years of loneliness he had endured without marked affection, without notice. Thor was endeavoring to soothe a wound that had long been sealed in scars.

"Brother—"

"Don't try to save me," Loki snarled suddenly as he whirled upon Thor. "I've been spared enough from Jotunheim, from the truth, from myself, and even your Avengers! Do you still beg me to play your side? It is a child's memory you cannot bring back."

"A memory?" Thor paused and looked up from where he had been kicking aside a small mountain of snow. "Then you remember as children when we played marauders?"

Loki favored him with a hard look, though his gaze held reluctant curiosity.

Thor continued, "Surely you recall how you always cheated when storming my snow fortresses…?"  
"I did not cheat. I merely used my advantage."

"By creating an army made entirely of yourself?"

Loki's lips spread into a wry smile. "The very look on your face made my efforts worth it."

Thor feigned seriousness. "I looked every bit a warrior!"

"You were a kitten who thought himself a lion."

"A kitten, eh?"

An image struck his whimsy and Loki allowed himself a deep-throated laugh, the first he could remember in months. "Your eyes were bigger than the shields in the weapons vault! The mighty Thor, hurling snowballs in every direction because as he could not decide which side to defend."

"There were hundreds of you!"

"It seems Heimdall had gravely neglected his duties."

Thor chuckled. "I asked him, but Father would not permit him to leave the Bifrost."

"I do not think Father—" Loki stopped, his speech hitching upon the last word. He glanced sideways to see a sad smile cross Thor's face as a deep silence fell between them.

"A memory can be brought back," said Thor quietly. "And so can you."

Loki's eyes flicked in the direction of the rock where he had been bound, then down to the mutilated snakes lying in the bloodied snow. For the briefest of instants, an overwhelming sadness overcame him, and he felt keenly Thor's disappointment in him. A feeling of betrayal, even. How far he had fallen since the days of their youth.

Then his mind snapped to and he felt the last remnant of humor leave him. He had never held claim to innocence, even as a boy, for his mind had always been plotting, twisting, and planning again. He had been pulled in far too easily by a memory, susceptible as he was for secretly clinging to a happier past. It would not happen again, and he set his jaw in final resolution.

"What becomes of me now?" said Loki apathetically, casting a blank look about him.

"You are free, brother."

"Just like that?"

Thor frowned. "I do not think you will cause much mischief while the Chitauri still shadow you."

"There is no freedom for the hunted," Loki retorted bitterly.

"And there is no choice for the dead," Thor returned, nodding his head back toward the stone slab. "You may wander where you like, but you cannot return to Asgard."

Loki stiffened. "Who are you to limit my movements in the Nine Realms?"

"Your rescuer and the future king of Asgard."

"How very clever," said Loki, a venomous tone creeping into his voice. "I am saved from one fate to be held in your debt. A way to insure my cooperation, is that it? You never were much for tactics, but perhaps I have taught you a thing or two in passing."

His words riled Thor, and he knew it.

"You twist pity and kindness, brother," Thor growled, his brow darkening. "You look for scheming in everyone—"

"Look for?" Loki spat. "I am not blind to the looks of suspicion from the likes of Tyr, Balder, Sif, or your Warriors Three. You think I do not feel their glares as I walk past, or hear their whispers behind my back? You are a fool, Thor, and cannot see beyond your own pathetic emotions to see how truly hated I am in Asgard! And for what? Because I can outwit their little games? Look to your own scheming friends, and see them for what they are."

"That is enough!"

"I will be paying Asgard a little visit," said the Trickster with a malicious grin. "You had best ready your fortress and know from which angle I intend to strike this time. I will be many in number; I would not trust Heimdall to protect you for long."

"You are mad!" Thor cried, bewildered.

Loki smirked. "Do run along and tell Father all about it."

He relished the look of fury and confusion upon Thor's face, satisfied that he had played his trick well. He knew Thor would not take him back to Asgard and risk his own punishment interfering with this new threat of war. Besides, what prison could hold him unless he allowed it? A simple shift in form and he could escape without notice; it was only the muzzle that had prevented him from doing so. And Thor was right. He would not go far without crossing the Chitauri's notice.

He met Thor's final scowl with a raised eyebrow and a challenging glare. As the Thunderer summoned a mighty wind and disappeared within the rising funnel, Loki willed himself to shift down into the unassuming form of a black hawk and waited for the skies to clear.


	3. The Revelation

Traveling the leagues to Bifrost would have been exhausting if not for his light frame, and Loki beat his wings faster, determined to keep pace with the storm before him. Thor was moving quickly against the wind, sending gusts behind him that threatened to wheel his pursuer off balance. The black hawk dropped lower and caught another air current, narrowing his wingspan until the breeze blew him forward. He wondered what Thor could do upon his return to Asgard without endangering himself. But if Odin saw all that occurred in the Nine Realms from Hlidskjalf, surely he would already know of Thor's treachery. Regardless, Loki had to know their movements, their plans. His army would come not from accursed Jotunheim, but from within the Aesir, a final wrenching thrust into the heart of Asgard. He would turn them upon themselves and watch them destroy each other and the home he had been denied.  But there was another force, too; something else that tugged at the core of his being and drew him back to Asgard…

Hours passed before the storm finally crashed into the heights of Valaskjalf. Through the whirling clouds Loki could see the streets of Asgard below, empty now in the face of the tempest that swept through them. Having finally espied his target, Loki tucked his wings close to his body and dove along a gentler current into the rafters of Odin's hall itself. A flash of lightning lit up the gloomy ceiling as the winds continued to scream about the fortress, but the black hawk paid it no heed as it preened its ruffled feathers. He was glad of the weather—it had shielded him from the sharp gaze of Heimdall, who would surely recognize such a singular bird upon the air.

The gales did not cease, but instead torrents of rain burst through the clouds and lashed down upon the halls of Asgard. The thunder shook the very air as if to attest to Thor's rage as lightning continued to flick along the underbelly of the clouds. A distant rumble suddenly came from within the hall. The sound eventually fell into the cadence of footsteps before the main doors of Valaskjalf crashed open to reveal the furious heir of Odin.

"Father, I must speak with you!"

Loki flapped silently along the edges of the great columns, venturing further into the throne room before perching on the statue of an ancient bard. He paused, studying the sculpture from his position on its shoulder. How would the skalds record his story in the annals of memory? To whose credit would he pen the fault and to whose the justice? If only he could whisper his life into the poet's golden ear, and so have it told.                                           

His reverie was interrupted by the voice of Odin.

"Thor," he said distractedly, as if a great weight still pressed upon him. "What is the meaning of this blustering about?"

"Loki has escaped his bonds, Father."

"Do not jest with me. I am far too—"

"I do not jest!" There was desperation in his tone.

Odin leaned forward. "How did it come to pass?"

"Have you not seen it already, Allfather?"

The ghost of a smile passed over Odin's face. "I did not sit in Hlidskjalf today. How did it happen?"

"I-I do not know…" his son's voice trailed off.

Loki smiled from behind the hawk's beak. Thor had always been a terrible liar.

A pricking at the back of Loki's mind suddenly caught his attention. It grew quickly more persistent and he closed his eyes, waiting. It was a little trick he played, occasionally sensing the thoughts of others. It was not telepathy he possessed, however, but a second visual sense, as he could sometimes see the other gods' thoughts twine about in the air like the ethereal branches of Yggdrasil. He could never learn the nature of another's thoughts, but he could _feel_ them, and it was then that he could exert his influence.

Thor had taken a step back, head bowed. From his perch, Loki watched hundreds of pale golden tendrils pulse from Thor's brow and reach out to claw the air. He then glanced at Odin, but was mildly surprised to find not the faintest hint of thought emanating from him. But the Thunderer's mind was still grasping, searching desperately for an excuse, any explanation. He was wasting time.

Loki cocked his head and sent a quick thought flickering across the great hall, guiding it with his gaze until it dissolved itself into Thor's consciousness. Thor started, unsure of where this solution had come from.

"The Jotuns…must have freed him, Father," said he, slowly warming to the idea. "I had sensed their foul presence but when I arrived I found the prisoner gone."

"I do not foresee Loki allying himself with the race he endeavored to exterminate."

 "He would not need them as an ally, Father, only as a means of escape. You know how convincing that silver tongue of his can be. 

Odin said nothing, but reached out and grasped the great staff Gungnir and raised it to rest beside his throne. The grim look on his face gave way to a horrid smile, and Thor stared at him, sensing a glint in his father's eye that he did not recognize.

Gungnir suddenly flashed forward and struck the Thunderer's shoulder, sending him sprawling, bewildered, across the polished floor. Thor could only lift his head, however, before the staff smote him again, this time burying itself into the muscles of his right arm, driving downward until it pierced bone. Thor cried out in pain and struggled to free himself, but the spear had pinned him firmly to the ground.

Loki stared, shocked, as he watched Gungnir drive itself further through Thor's flesh to the hilt, the screams of its victim flying forth in a brazen echo throughout the vast hall. Loki's talons gripped their perch tightly as he fought the overwhelming urge to dive down upon the Allfather and claw at him, bury his beak into him, anything to stop the wielder of that fearsome weapon.

_Let him writhe._

Loki was momentarily taken aback by the voice in his head until he recognized it as his own.

_Thor can never suffer as you have, but let him try._

The hawk shifted on it perch, its gaze still fixed upon the scene below him. Though his face could not yield expression, Loki's mind was racing, his reasoning choked by pain, anger, and pity.

Odin had risen from his throne, and it was only now that Loki saw the face behind the Allfather's, a brief flicker of a grinning, beastly visage that he had known all too well.

The last of the Chitauri had found Asgard.

* * *

He made a decision.

Releasing his hold on the statue's shoulder, the black hawk rocketed from the rafters toward Odin's throne before pulling up and landing on its golden armrest in a noisy flutter.

The form of Odin turned and glanced at the bird with annoyance. "Bah! I thought I had locked you beasts away! I should have—"

He paused, frowning. "You're a new one, and by no means a regal raven." He reached out and stroked the hawk's neck thoughtfully, and Loki willed himself not to snap at his fingers. "You are rather small. But you have your own strengths, I am sure, which Odin overlooked in favor of those carrion birds."

Loki's eyes narrowed slightly. 

"Ah, you saw it too, little hawk?" He smiled. "Serve me and you shall rule alongside the greatest empire in the Nine Worlds. I name you Listig, for you shall help me trick all of Asgard into submission."

Loki had little time to ponder the irony of his new name before a growl from the floor caught his attention. Thor was still conscious but did not stir, the hand of his mangled arm limply holding Mjolnir at his side. He had tried to free Gungnir from his arm, but the spear could not be shifted.

"Where is my father?" snapped Thor, fixing the king with a look of fury.

"I see no point in hiding it from you, as you see that I’m not he," said the Chitauri smugly, allowing his true form to overtake his guise for a brief moment. "I am called Burvek, though I will retain Odin's form—after all, he has such a way with words."

"Where is he?" Thor bellowed.

"Odin is here," said the creature as he pointed to his temple. "I have overtaken his mind, and will soon destroy his heart as well."

Thor stared in disbelief. "And…and my mother?"

"Frigga is mine, and such a dutiful wife she is."

Thor's shouts of rage shook the hall and even Loki fought a rising anger in his throat.

"I have not touched her, while she yet stays silent. She has been threatened with the deaths of her sons should she tell a soul of the danger Asgard now faces."

"A deed harder wrought than spoken," Thor said with a bitter laugh.

"I think you underestimate the power of your father's favorite weapon. It's quite formidable, as I'm sure you've come to notice.”

"You cannot contain me."

"Yggdrasil can. I believe Odin experienced that once, did he not? Impaled himself with Gungnir for days on your World Tree to learn the secrets of the universe?"

For the first time, Loki saw a shadow of fear pass over Thor's face, and he himself felt a small twinge of something gnaw at own gut. He ignored it.

 Burvek smiled behind the Allfather's mask. "How many times can a god die? Shall we count?"

"My brother has tried."

"Did he?" Burvek let out a coarse laugh. "Such a pity he could not secure Earth for me, but I have the honor of keeping my oath to him. He will suffer greatly when I find him."

Loki stiffened slightly at this, but kept his gaze fixed on Thor. The gnawing in his belly grew stronger, and he now recognized it as a feeling of urgency.

_Help him._

Loki snarled inwardly at this blatant sentiment and instead imagined Thor hanging helplessly from the limbs of Yggdrasil, in constant anguish while the Nine Worlds carried on below him, deaf to his cries…

_You've gone soft, haven't you?_

Loki let out an involuntary hiss as he pushed aside the thought. Then he remembered Thor banishing him from Asgard just the previous day, tossing him away like all the Aesir before him, and he smirked at the thought. Let the future king of Asgard save himself.

His reverie was broken by the Chitauri leader summoning someone into the room. Loki glanced at the door. Instantly, something pricked at the back of his memory; he felt certain that he had seen her before in passing, perhaps amongst the faces in Gladsheim or the great feasting halls.  He cocked his head to the side, watching curiously as a woman crossed the great hall to Odin's throne. She was tall and fair-skinned, and her dark red hair hung in a loose braid over one shoulder, the folds of her robes flowing silently behind her every step. In looks she was not as stunning as Freyja, by whom every standard of beauty was compared in Asgard, but Loki sensed a dangerous attractiveness about this woman, like a poisonous plant wreathed in a delicate bloom.

"My lady," said Burvek not unkindly, beckoning her to draw nearer. "See for yourself how the mighty Thunderer has been laid low." 

A quirk of the woman's lips hinted at her amusement as she looked down at Thor. "So the son is finally quelled by his father's spear?"

"Quelled? He will perish by it."

The woman said nothing, but looked up at Burvek expectantly.

The creature gave her a shrewd look. “You will say nothing of this at the feast this evening. The others of your kind—and that Aesir filth—do not know of Odin or his son’s captivity, nor shall they know of Thor’s destination." 

 “Yes, my lord. And you have summoned me to…?” she prompted.

The Chitauri motioned toward Loki. "This is Listig, and he is to be kept tethered to his perch from now on. I have wondered about your kind's love of birds as companions, but I believe this one will prove his worth in spying. There is intelligence in his eyes that the ravens lack."

“You wish me to take care of a bird, my lord?”

Burvek did not answer, but instead snatched at Loki and fettered his talons with two strong whips of leather before pulling them tight. Loki did not struggle but instead surrendered himself to his now gnawing curiosity about this unexpected coup in Asgard. He glanced between the woman and the creature beneath Odin’s skin.  What sort of alliance is this, he wondered, where Aesir and Chitauri schemed together? He had not expected the complication of that alien race in his schemes of vengeance, but the challenge whetted his mischievous appetite. His mind twisted with several equally intricate plots and feints he could employ as he studied those before him. He relished the thought of weaving a web of deceit and discord about the gods and aliens alike before his final triumph, and wondered how many sides he could play at once without getting caught.

Burvek tossed a long gauntlet carelessly at the woman and waited for her to put it on before pushing the black hawk onto her forearm. "Take the bird to my hall. I have business to finish here."

Too absorbed in his own thoughts to think of much else, Loki merely glanced at the prostrate figure of Thor, considered briefly his punishment, and then turned away, unruffled.

“Is there anything else you wish me to do, Allfather?” asked the woman as she turned to leave.

“No, that will be all, Sigyn.”


	4. The Alliance

Thor would not hang from Yggdrasil—Loki was sure of it.

Burvek would be foolish indeed to give up fearsome Gungnir in order to pin one god to the World Tree, and as such no other weapon existed in the Nine Realms that could restrain Thor. And so it stood that the Chitauri would make himself vulnerable or Thor would break through and escape his bondage. Loki was betting on the latter. He refused to wonder where Thor would be imprisoned; he would live and that was all that mattered right now.

Sigyn had been winding her way expertly through the darkened palace halls as if she had traversed the path a thousand times. Thor's storm still raged outside, the thunder slamming and echoing against the outer columns as the rain poured from the low clouds, but she paid little heed to it. A turn down another passage and her pace increased, and curious, Loki cocked his head to see a strange look cross her face; almost of irrepressible anticipation, he thought. She halted suddenly and Loki gripped her arm for balance before looking up to survey their destination. Burvek had chosen an almost hidden wing of the palace as his private den when he was not appearing to be living in Odin's hall. The burnished doors had been kept securely fastened at all times, though Sigyn seemed to have endeared herself to the creature long enough to now be trusted with a key. Loki wondered at this, and as he set about committing every detail of this mysterious woman to his memory, he hardly noticed her unlocking the great doors of Burvek's chambers and pushing them inward. She stepped swiftly into the room and shoved the doors closed, and instantly she and the bird were engulfed in blinding darkness.

Loki felt a slight uneasiness prod his stomach as they stood for what seemed like hours in silence. His hawk eyes desperately sought out any point of light within the room, but the chambers had long ago been sealed against even the smallest ray of sunlight filtering through the walls. Wasn't she just supposed to tie him to a perch and leave? He was startled then when he heard the snapping of fingers and saw a sudden flame spring up inches in front of his beak. Fire dancing on her fingertips, Sigyn glared at him with cold green eyes, her lips set in a predatory smile.

"A clever little hawk you are," she said in a low voice, her eyes boring into his. "But no more a bird than I am. Drop the guise." 

 Loki let out a screeching laugh, but made no move to change form. She was a fool if she thought—

The fire in Sigyn's fingers blazed hotter as she brought the flames closer to the Loki's face, causing the bird to rocket backward into the air and strain upon his tethers. But Sigyn held the leather straps tightly in her other hand and with a sharp tug she wrenched him from the air to tumble crashing to the ground. Stunned, Loki struggled to right himself, but immediately felt the woman's boot pin his left wing to the floor. He let out a harsh squawk of fury, and lunged with all his might at Sigyn's foot, poised to rip through the boot leather with his sharp beak. She halted his dive by crushing his right wing under her other foot, leaving Loki splayed upon his back, his full wingspan almost stretched to its limit.

"Drop it now!" growled Sigyn and allowed her feet to slide sideways, pulling his wings even farther apart. 

Loki screeched in pain, but moved only to fix the woman with a defiant glare.

It was when Sigyn pulled on his tethers and threatened to draw and quarter him did the anguish become too great for the bird to bear. With a terrible shriek, the hawk melted into a puddle of thick fog that swirled from the floor upwards to the ceiling. Wisps of smoke twirled about the column as it parted to reveal Loki's Aesir form just seconds before he lunged at her.

Sigyn had little time to register surprise before the stranger slammed her to the ground,and no time to struggle when she felt his strong fingers tighten around her throat.

"A clever little bitch you are," Loki hissed at her, his eyes narrowed in growing fury. "Have something against shape-shifters, do you? Or were you just following orders?"

"Who...are you?" Sigyn choked out.

"Ladies first," said the Trickster and loosened his grip on her by the slightest degree.

"Sigyn," the woman gasped. "Odin has graciously entertained…has…welcomed my presence in his court." 

Loki cocked an eyebrow. "'Entertained'? Then you are not Aesir."

"No more than you are, _Loki_." A small, knowing smile crossed her face.

Loki's anger flared up at this, but he quickly forced it down. "Then what am I?"

"Such a difficult question." She rolled her eyes. "Only a Jotun can shape-shift like you did, and do it as if it were the most natural thing in the world."

Loki released her throat in surprise and stared down at her. "But you're not from Jotunheim."

"Guess again."

Then it struck him. Her looks, her little magic tricks, and that smug sense of entitlement. It was all so annoyingly familiar. "Oh gods, you're Vanir," he groaned. 

"There's a smart boy," Sigyn crooned mockingly as she pushed him away. "But what does that make you? Jotunir? Aetun? Hum! There just isn't a name for your breed of mutt, I suppose."

"Shut up!" Loki snapped, leveling her with a venomous glare. "Tell me, what is a fertility goddess doing serving Odin, that great Allfather who sends his favorite son to rot on Yggdrasil?"

"You think _he—_ " Sigyn jerked her head in the direction of the throne room. "—is _Odin_? My, and I thought a Jotun would be able to detect all forms of disguise."

"Of course I saw through it," Loki scoffed. "The true Odin would not sentence his son to die."

"Then you know that the Allfather is actually a Ch—"

But Loki wasn't listening.

_The true Odin would not sentence his son to die._

Suddenly he laughed, and the harsh mirthless sound that escaped his lips echoed eerily about the chamber before finally fading down the dark recesses of the hall.

"That Chitauri _bastard,_ " Loki seethed, clenching his fists at his side. " _He_ played Odin and had me bound in Jotunheim. _He_ sent those snakes to torture me! I held up my end of the bargain, but I'm punished because those damned Avengers sent a missile to blow his race to Hel and back? Oh, I could rip his throat out with—"

Sigyn's laugh cut his rant short. "Then we are allies, it seems."

Loki spun on her. "There is nothing in the Nine Worlds that would make us allies."

"You need me," she said simply, and her tone pricked at Loki's curiosity.

"Why?"

"Because I know what will happen to Thor."

"What makes you think I give a damn about what happens to my brother?"

"Perhaps the fact that you just called him 'brother'."

"Force of habit."

Sigyn shrugged. "Nevertheless, he will be needed to reclaim Asgard."

"Oh, while I step back and let him do it?"

"Of course not. You just let him be the bait."

"Bait, hmm?" Loki began circling her, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. "And what's in it for you, my dear?"

Sigyn flashed him a mischievous smile. "Just _you_."

Loki smirked. "Me? But I owe you nothing."

Sigyn shrugged. "Only your life."

"Really, my life?"

She gave him a reproachful look. "Do you really think that Chitauri wouldn't see through your bird guise? Everyone knows Odin keeps only Hugninn and Muninn."

"Call it a brief moment of valour," Loki said, a sharp edge to his voice. "I wasn't going to stand by and let him kill Thor. Someone had to distract him."

"So you do care."

"Interpret it as you wish."

Sigyn casually smoothed the braid over her right shoulder. "Burvek knew it was you. He would have killed you, tied to that perch, had I not intervened."

"I thought it was on a whim that the creature called you in."

"Only after I put the idea into his head," replied Sigyn levelly. 

Loki looked up sharply and narrowed his eyes. "I should have known."

"Really, Loki. You can't be the only one with a set of tricks. I'm sure you can do nearly the same thing, putting your own thoughts into other people's heads."

A wry look flickered across the Trickster's eyes, but Sigyn caught its meaning too late. "Don't you dare—"

But Loki was already mentally coaxing his second vision into focus. Looking at her again, he watched Sigyn's thoughts whirl about her head in wisps of violent purple hues as they branched and twirled past her shoulders, hips, and then to the ground. Unlike other gods' thoughts, which simply hung in dull hazes about them, Sigyn's sparked with intelligence and cunning in their perpetual whirling and twisting about. That her mind never seemed to be still intrigued Loki, if only that it reminded him of his own. 

Lifting his chin, Loki fixed his gaze on one of the sharper purple tendrils that curled about Sigyn's head and shot a single thought into its ethereal claws.

_What are you really after, Sigyn?_

Sigyn gritted her teeth as she glared back at him. Suddenly, Loki felt a tingling sensation scrape along the side of his mind and grimaced. It seemed she could return the thought.

_As if I would tell you._

Loki closed his eyes and smiled. Drawing upon that voice of charm, he sent out another thought, slower this time and oddly seductive.

_Allies have a common goal, hmm? Come on, tell me what you're really up to._

She shook her head, turning away to pace about the room.  _I want the same things you want. Trust that._

 _Convince me._  Loki's thought purred in her mind.

_You don't deserve it._

Sigyn suddenly felt his mind withdraw from hers, and turned to see Loki standing still, looking at her with a curious smile.

"Your brother is in great danger without my knowledge," she said flatly, "If you would listen-"

A mocking laugh echoed about the chamber as the smiling figure before her fizzled out.

A projected image. Sigyn cursed herself for turning her back on him, even for an instant. Her gaze darted blindly about the chamber, seeking his face. "You cannot imagine the consequences of your actions now! Every second you waste-"

"Oh, the Vanir and their sacred fortune-telling," Loki's scornful voice rang from the rafters. "I don't believe the Aesir has ever needed your kind's alarmist notions."

"You're not Aesir."

"Then I need you even less."

Sigyn suddenly glimpsed a shadow step into the dim light of a high window. She sent a twisting thought wheeling toward its head, and Loki winced as the words struck his consciousness.

_I saved you._

Loki's response was nonchalant.  _And that means something? I would have done it myself._

There was a spark of urgency in her returning thought. _You cannot win now. Not without me._

_I don't trust strangers. I trust Vanir even less._

_You don't understand what has happened._

_I'll figure it out._

_Foolish Jotun!_  her venomous thoughts spat back at him,  _I would have expected better from the son of Laufey--_

Snarling, he envisioned a barb and shot it back, listening to her cry as it embedded itself in her mind.

_We're finished here. Get out._


	5. The Motive

She could feel the cold air before the footsteps even reached the threshold. A sharp clang reverberated about the room as the groaning doors slowly pushed inward, spilling light around her and stretching her shadow to the furthest wall. Six servants marched inside to ignite the wall torches, and one by one the shadows of the room began to dance in and out of the pools of light. The six men melted back into the remaining darkness.

"My Lady Sigyn, why do you remain in my chambers?" the monster's growl broke through the tired tones of Odin's voice.

"I search for Listig, who broke free of his fetters, my lord," she replied evenly.

"Could he have been so strong?"

"Your halls were a blinding dark when I arrived. I could not anticipate the beast's attack with no light."

"It is unfortunate." His voice registered a lower growl this time.

"Were you so very fond of the bird, my lord?"

"It… _interested_ me," the old man replied slowly. "There was a knowing look in its eyes." 

Sigyn shrugged. "Many creatures possess such a keenness. I would not trouble yourself with Listig's disappearance. If you wish it, I will reclaim him."

"Your usefulness to me depends on your presence in the dining halls tonight."

"I care little for the wagging tongues of boastful gods," came the cool reply. "In such an atmosphere, it would not be difficult to gain the information from them yourself. It is a fool's errand."

"You dare to mock me?" the Chitauri cried angrily, striding swiftly toward her.

"Hail, Allfather!" A messenger appeared at the door, gasping for breath. "Lord Heimdall requests your presence on the Bifrost."

The figure of Odin halted, then turned toward the door, his lips suddenly curling in a hideous smile. "Oh? Then I shall take my leave. Forgive me," he glanced at Sigyn with a sneer before turning once more to the courier. "Please ensure the lady enjoys the festivities tonight." As he passed into the hall, he added in a low voice, "Inform me if she does not attend."

The man merely nodded as he watched Odin disappear into the shadows of the corridor, the sound of his footsteps fading into deepening silence.

The messenger walked slowly into the chamber, halting just behind his new charge. Sigyn sighed and flicked her wrist in a dismissive wave. "You may go."

"M'lady-"

" _Get out._ "

She felt him move closer, bending over her left shoulder.

"I think I'll stay," Loki murmured in her ear. 

Sigyn stiffened, then whirled on the voice. The face of the courier had melted into the familiar form of the Trickster.  She gritted her teeth. "It seems neither of us can escape the other."

"You… _interest_ me," Loki mocked, his eyes boring into hers. "I want to know why you're in Asgard."

"As I told you, I was invited to attend court."

"By the Chitauri, I know. Or were you deceived into thinking great Odin wished more Vanir to roam his halls?"

"I see no deception in that. Our alliance has remained steady since the war with your kind."

Loki only laughed. "My _kind_? To what heritage of mine do you refer?"

Sigyn fixed him with a level glare. "Why should I refuse an invitation from the Aesir?"

"Oh, you shouldn't! You came here for yourself," Loki circled slowly around her. "Or your kind."

Sigyn started to snap back, but Loki cut her off, raising his voice in mock confusion as he moved to face her once more. 

"What _does_ Vanaheim want? What do the gods of the earth and the goddesses of fertility desire most from their sister realm? Power? No, they have enough of their own, but-" Here he paused, narrowing his eyes as a sudden smirk caught his lips. "But it's not enough to overcome the Aesir. Wars end with stalemates and prisoners, but what can rise above a battle?" 

Sigyn merely smiled in return. "Why, knowledge, of course. Asgard has long had a source of wisdom that was once ours."

Loki pressed two fingers to his lips to suppress a raucous laugh. "You mean the head of Mimir, your Aesir hostage, the one you thought an ill-trade before sending a piece of him back to Asgard? _Mimir?_ How far you've come to try and wrest him from Odin's grasp!"

"He will give him up freely," Sigyn replied  smoothly. "Odin is, after all, only a mindless beast."

Her companion stopped pacing, and Sigyn saw a look of surprise flicker with the torchlight across his face. "You welcomed the coming of the Chitauri. You _waited_ for them."

She bit her lip, throwing a thoughtful glance at the ceiling. "We saw an opportunity and took it."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because you are going to help me find Mimir."

Loki studied her, bemused, as the familiar spark of mischief flared within him. She would make a fine pawn indeed. He was no stranger to making deals with other immortals, and welcomed once more the chance to twist a bargain to his benefit.

"And I suppose you will try to bring Thor into this." 

"He is of little use impaled on Yggdrasil."

It was then that Loki remembered Odin passing by without Gungnir in his hand.

* * *

He passed into the silent hall without so much as a backward glance. A sudden decision had gripped him with iron resolve, and he felt a twisted joy as a plot immediately wove itself in intricate patterns through his mind. He did not protest when he heard Sigyn's footsteps fall into stride beside him, but instead concentrated on the echoes of the walls, listening to ascertain that they were alone in the corridor, and remained alone. His companion must have sensed his caution, for when she spoke, it was barely above a murmur. 

"Do you intend to rescue him?"

Loki bit back a bitter laugh. "You really must get to know me better, my dear. "

"I would rather not." Sigyn chafed at the unwarranted endearment. "I know about you. Is that not enough?"

"You know stories," he snapped in a hoarse whisper. "Tales twisted for the pleasure of feasting halls, because the miserable truth is never as entertaining." He surprised himself with his own vehemence, but quickened his pace, taking another corner in stride.

"You truly see yourself as a victim, when you've created dozens more of your own?"

"That's a matter of perspective."

The sharp retort died on her tongue, for they both froze as a rage-filled yell clawed across the distance to burn the cold silence of the palace halls. There was no question from whose throat the tortured sound had come. 

Sigyn whirled on him. "And still you will do nothing?"

Her voice had risen, and Loki, alarmed, shouldered her into a shadowed alcove. When he was certain no one had heard, he fixed her with a dark look. "You did not seem so eager for his safety when Odin pinned him to the throne room floor."

"I was playing a part. I would have betrayed myself."

"Such mysterious motives. Why free him now? He cannot help in your mission. In fact--" he let out a breathy chuckle--"He would stop you before you could even flee the borders to Vanaheim."

"Yes, that would be likely," Sigyn sighed. "He's not a traitor like you."

Loki's eyes flashed in a murderous glare as his right arm shot forward, pale electricity hissing from his fingers as they flexed toward her throat. Sigyn stumbled away from him with a gasp, staring back at him with a look mingled with surprise and disgust.

"A pretty trick, Sly One," she said finally, composing herself. "The truth does not seem to suit you." 

Loki lowered his hand and slowly leaned his tall frame against the column behind him, his gaze never breaking hers. "You fray my patience, Sigyn." 

"I only strive to know you better, as you put it."

His eyes glinted. "Then know this. You throw your lot in with me, and I will get you what you want. Without Thor." His back arched until he stood erect once more. He threw a quick, cautious glance about the corridor. Sigyn smirked as he slowly turned his back to her and prowled back into the hall.

A deep silence fell between them, marked only by footsteps against marble. They had walked only a few minutes when Loki stepped swiftly to the side and disappeared down a stretch of stone stairs that dissolved completely into blackness. Tendrils of dampened must mingling with the sharp scent of earth floated up from the unseen caverns, choking the fresh air of the hall. Hurrying to trail him, Sigyn's breath was cut short as she turned the corner and crashed into his shoulder. He had stopped dead in his tracks.

"You must know that I do nothing without expectation," came the silky voice, all anger having left it.

"I would be a fool to think otherwise," Sigyn replied, catching her breath. "As long as Vanaheim reclaims what was once ours, you may consider your bargain struck."

"Indeed?" Loki looked her up and down for a long moment, considering. "Would you steal for me?" he spoke slowly, as if tasting each word. When she didn't answer, he flashed a crooked smile and ascended a stair to stand mere inches away from her face. "A theft for a theft is all that I ask."

She raised her chin. "Theft of what?"

"I haven't decided." He buried the lie behind an innocuous grin. "Nothing as big as Mimir's head, I can assure you."

"I don't trust you."

"The sentiment is mutual. I think it's best that way, wouldn't you agree?"

Another distant bellow reached their ears, and Loki winced, remembering his own screams as the venom ravaged his mind and senses. He would still be chained to that forsaken rock had it not been for the pity of a brother. His thoughts recoiled at the word, but it somehow remained, throbbing through his consciousness. Brother. His nails dug into his palms as indecision gnawed his insides, but only for a moment. Glancing at Sigyn, he gritted his teeth and plunged down into the darkness, stumbling as his boots slid across the slimed stone. He caught himself and hurried down, down, down and away from the wails that sounded so much like his own.

He could not help Thor. Not now.


	6. The Spies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have seen fit to consolidate the chapters into fewer, longer sections, but the story remains the same. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read so far, and as always, all feedback is greatly appreciated!

Loki was loathe to leave the winding maze of catacombs. The swallowing darkness afforded him protection from unwanted eyes and ears, its stifling silence barely touched by his light tread over stone. The cool air had a lingering dank scent as it whispered its way through the columned halls, but he breathed it in deeply as he stepped through its lazy subterranean currents.

Reaching out to feel his way through the chamber, his hand brushed against a column and he paused, realizing where he was. Extending his fingers, he ran them across the smooth stone, until his hand dropped once more to his side. A sharp memory stung his mind and he instantly fought to keep it at bay, but found too late that it had melted through his defenses. Distant voices broke through the breathless quiet, young boys' voices…his and Thor's voices. Giggles from a hiding game behind the columns, triumphant shouts of discovery, the scuffle of the childish fight that always ensued. How many times had they defied a father's rules to stay out of the vaults? Thor was always the first in trouble as Loki cloaked himself in spells to stay hidden. But justice found him swiftly, with Thor later pouncing on him when he least expected before pummeling him into the ground.

Loki's mouth twitched, half amused. Escape required constant vigilance, as he had learned, lest worse retribution find him instead. As his harmless tricks turned treacherous over the years, caution and distrust became his most constant of companions.

The scuff of footsteps interrupted his reverie.

Turning, he lazily glanced at Sigyn and envisioned the branches of her thoughts. Focusing, he saw that the purple tendrils still whirled about her head just as fervently as before, her mind still alert.

 _Glad you could join me,_ Loki tossed the thought in her direction. Full-throated voices would be too dangerous in the echoing deep beneath the palace. 

 _You know this place better than I,_ snapped the voice in the back of his head. _You move too fast._

_I thought you were escaping your engagement this evening. Perhaps you could do so with a little more speed?_

There was a pause. _What engagement?_

 _The banquet you were to attend for Odin. The one he told me to make sure you attended._ Loki rolled his head up toward the ceiling. _Not that_ I'm _obeying orders._

Sigyn shrugged. _It was a ruse. I consider my work with the Chitauri to be mercifully finished now._

Loki raised his eyebrows, but continued to study the caverns above them. _There's no escaping them until they've wrenched every last drop of usefulness from your hollow carcass. But I wish you the best of luck in the endeavor._

He felt her eyes boring into his back. _Then they must not be finished with you. I would be surprised if Burvek cared enough to search for me now, but you, on the other hand…_

Again, Loki broke the silence, this time risking a whisper. "I'm flattered by your estimate of my worth, but my chance has passed. I do not see how useful I can be to them now."

"Very," came her low response.

Something in Sigyn's voice snagged Loki's attention, but he dropped his chin and looked straight ahead, brow furrowed. He shook his head and started forward, his stride lengthening as he wound between the now familiar columns. The talk of Chitauri wearied him, and he did not need reminding, least of all from her, that they would tear the realms apart to punish him for his recent failures. They would find him— he had never doubted that. Almost unconsciously he picked up his pace as he counted the last column that marked the way out of the catacombs. A sharp turn right and down a slope, and he suddenly felt uneven rock beneath his boots just seconds before the sun struck his eyes, causing spots to swim before his vision. They would find him. If only he could gain the time to strike first—

A hand reached out to clutch his elbow and Loki wrenched violently away from it, effectively throwing Sigyn to her knees beside him.  He stared down at her as a sharp irritation ignited within his chest.

"Do not touch me again," he growled.

"I was trying to keep up," Sigyn replied between gritted teeth.

Loki rolled his eyes and reached back to clutch a fistful of his cape. He held the material out to her at arm's length, his mouth hard. "Then _follow_."

Sigyn stared in shock at the brazen gesture. It was common custom that only servants handled the capes of their masters. Her eyes locked on his as she reached up to clench her fingers around the proffered cloth. Then she pulled hard, using Loki's counterweight to pull herself to her feet. A venomous spark shot through Loki's eyes as he felt the cloth tear beneath his shoulder plates, but Sigyn ignored it as she released the cape and watched it flutter unevenly behind him.

"I will follow at your side, but not behind you."

Loki was visibly nonplussed. He stared at her for a long time, his right hand slowly clenching and unclenching as he fought the anger rising in his throat. His vexation, however, gave way to surprise as the sound of a harsh, croaking call sliced through the solemn air.

It took only a moment before the realization struck him. "Back! Get _back_!" Loki hissed, snatching at Sigyn's wrist, _touching her,_ Loki thought ruefully, and dragging her back into the darkness of the caverns. They collapsed on the dirt floor behind a large column, and Loki hastily cast an ethereal pall about them, its dark netting pressing close against their skin as it pushed them toward the ground.

Sigyn had recognized the sound seconds after Loki, and now fought the confines of his cloaking device to gain a better view of the cave's entrance. Loki grunted as she pushed a palm into his stomach in her effort to climb over him, which forced a low growl from his chest. "What are you doing?"

"Covering our tracks." With a flick of her wrist, a violent wind swept up outside the cave, throwing dirt about until it hissed against the stones outside. Clouds of dust rose to choke the sunlight as the rush of air extended beyond the mouth of the catacombs until it whipped through the surrounding trees and dissipated like a wayward afternoon gust through the rustling leaves.

"Are you certain you didn't _attract_ attention instead?" Loki glowered up at her.

"Better than leaving a definitive scent behind," Sigyn retorted. "Hiding isn't everything."

A deep squawk rent the air and was joined by another caw, its voice closing in on its companions'. Sigyn froze as two ravens flapped into view and lit upon the ground on the threshold of the cave. The pair cocked their heads in interest as they stared into the dim light, then overtook its shadowy border with clawed steps.

Loki pulled Sigyn behind him, but halted her momentum with a strong hand around her right shoulder. His eyes were wide and when she glanced at him, she saw his mind already calculating the next move. Their forms caught the sunlight shining through a crack in the rocky ceiling, and Loki noticed with a stab of alarm their huddled shadows extending before them. Loki's eyes scanned the tight mesh of magic about them and suddenly his fingers flicked into frantic, blurred motion as he deftly began sewing wispy black threads between the gaps of the net. With one hand he tugged Sigyn closer at the waist as he jerked the woven fibers with the other hand and pulled the cloak impossibly tight around them. Their shadows disappeared, leaving only sunlight shining on an empty floor.

A croak echoed closer and reverberated through the hollow halls, as the ravens rounded the farthest column and paused a few yards away. The smaller bird, the one Loki recognized as Muninn, fluttered closer and caught his eye for the briefest of moments. In the inky wells of the bird's pupil he saw Odin's one eye stare back at him, then look around, as if searching for something. Loki's breath seized, but he remained entirely still, barely daring to breathe.

Then Huginn and Muninn were hopping away, disinterested, and took to the air to explore the rest of the caverns. Loki let out a ragged sigh and threw a glance over at Sigyn, who had now turned her attention to studying the airy substance of the net. She extended a forefinger and plucked at a taught line, and Loki shivered as the reverberations of the illusion ran up his spine and tingled through the nerves to the core of his mind. His fingers clenched involuntarily around her waist, and she looked up to see his look of warning before she quickly withdrew her hand to her side. They crouched for what seemed like hours until the whirring of wings overhead announced the departure of the two black birds as they wheeled out into the fresh air and rocketed with unearthly speed toward the distant western hills.

Loki relaxed his fist and the cords of magic snapped backwards and dissipated in the dusty air. He stared ahead, unmoving. "I did not believe he could control Odin's ravens."

Sigyn pushed herself up into a sitting position and leaned her head back against the smooth pillar. "And why not?"

"They only respond to the Allfather's commands."

"And why shouldn't they now? You don't expect the dumb beasts to discern a disguise, do you?"

Loki shook his head. "They can see all the world, but not the true face of their master? No, they must know."

Sigyn snorted softly. "They're _birds._ "

"They are Thought and Memory," Loki corrected, remembering Muninn's knowing look only moments before. "They traverse the Nine Realms to divine the secretive minds of men and gods, and return with the knowledge to the Allfather's ear. They see and hear all, and commit every action, every word to Odin's recollection. They are his chief spies, and we are now their chief prey."

Sigyn risked a sideways glance. "Would it not be easier to kill them?"

"That creature Burvek would know immediately. Huginn and Muninn return every evening without fail."

"Do you think they saw us?"

Loki shifted to give her a dour look. "I'm sure your little wind storm certainly caught their attention."

"Really? Would you say they could follow a scent?" Sigyn countered.

"Yes, these could."

"Then consider our tracks confused. I tried to make it as natural as possible."

"So you can control nature, is that it?"

Sigyn shrugged. "Vanir. Earth and fertility." She narrowed her eyes. "And what about you? What was that…web?"

Loki tapped his fingers against his knee and threw her a haughty glance. "An illusion very useful for hiding, though I dare say I was not prepared to have to stretch it so tightly."

Sigyn caught the disdain in his voice and felt a twinge of fury stab her chest. "I never asked you to!" she barked back. "You never gave me the chance to fend for myself."

"If I did, you'd still be wandering these caves in the dark."

"Getting momentarily lost and protecting oneself are completely different things!"

"Without the competence to do the former, I thought you would prove unable to perform the latter," Loki responded coolly.

"Typical 'all or nothing' Aesir mindset," Sigyn snapped, her brown eyes glittering. "Do you really see your world in black and white?"

Loki regarded her from under hooded eyes. "I cannot answer for my adopted realm, but a Jotun's world is _very_ black and white."

"Then what am I?"

Loki flashed her a curious smile. "Gray." 


End file.
